The Unpredictable Road - A Lesson from the Cross, part 2
Photo by Ugne Vasyliute on Unsplash
"Jennifer! Something is
wrong with Linda…”
I remember the phone call
as if it was yesterday. I stood in the kitchen, hearing, but not wanting
to believe the words.
Words that tore through
the plans we’d barely pieced together.
Words that shattered any
remaining illusion of our control.
Words that reinforced just
how powerless we were...
The Storm Before the Storm
Just two weeks before the
phone call we learned my mother-in-law, who lived out of town and alone, had
suffered a stroke. The next fourteen days were filled with confusion, anxiety,
and disbelief as other serious and unexpected medical issues came to light.
These new and worrisome findings, in addition to the stroke, required their own
prompt attention. As she was a widow, my husband (her only child) shouldered the responsibility of navigating these complex waters with her. And
this situation, difficult enough on its own and complicated by its setting in
another state, was further challenged by its timing in the height of the COVID
pandemic. Thanks to COVID restrictions we were unable to go to the hospital. We
could not see her for ourselves or speak in person with her medical providers.
Our only option was to wait by the phone for the infrequent hospital updates –
an option that left us feeling helpless and in the dark.
After several days of this
routine my husband traveled to his mother’s home to be with her when she got
out of the hospital. The days that followed were quickly filled with
multiple doctors’ appointments and varying opinions on the best course of
action. Additional testing and procedures were needed, but their risk was
great, and their ideal timing and location was unclear. One thing was evident
though: My mother-in-law would no longer be able to live alone in another
state. And this simple fact brought a new set of unanswered questions and
differing – sometimes unsolicited – opinions. So many decisions needed to be
made regarding her medical care and both her short and long-term housing. But
not only did it feel like there were no good options before us, we quickly
realized we didn’t even have most of the information needed to make any
decisions.
Each possible scenario
collided with unanswered questions:
What results would the
additional testing reveal?
What effect would
additional procedures have on my mother-in-law’s already fragile medical state?
What level of care would
she require in the days, weeks, and months ahead?
And if she couldn’t live
alone, where would she live?
It seemed that beyond
planning for the next several days, we were paralyzed.
But as our ability to
plan the future became more and more stunted, my desire to plan the
future kicked into overdrive. I could focus on nothing other than how the next
few days … few weeks … few months … and even the next few years would play out.
Would any scenario allow
her to live alone, but
with in-home sitters and nursing care?
Would she require the kind
of care only found in a nursing facility?
Would these changes be
temporary or long-standing?
Would others expect her to
move in with us, and what would that even look like?
So many questions.
And no answers...
Nonetheless my mind raced
through these scenarios nonstop, obsessively playing out each one as my stomach
twisted into knots and my head pounded.
His Word
Details changed by the day, and every decision was a
struggle. The situation was confusing. Filled with uncertainty. And emotionally
exhausting. As our stress increased, I gradually turned to the one place I
hoped would offer the Words and Peace my heart desperately needed:
Scripture.
Now holding the Bible and
taking a few deep breaths while trying to slow my racing brain was sort of helpful –
but not nearly as helpful as the quick Google searches I began doing each
morning! Fortunately, people much wiser than I have compiled lists of Bible
verses about nearly any topic imaginable, and my search history soon reflected
my daily hunt for verses that would speak life into my current struggle - be it
plans, timing, unanswered questions, etc. Writing down at least one verse each
day, I then kept it with me, rereading it each time I felt overwhelmed. And
little by little, a small amount of His Peace began to seep in, slowly easing
the anxiety that had threatened to drown me.
Commit your work to the Lord,
and
your plans will be established.
Proverbs 16:3
I became intentional about
taking individual steps that would serve Him, as opposed to my own
selfish desires, and on focusing only on the decisions right in front of me.
And slowly … a few, tentative plans were made.
The Storm Intensifies
“Jennifer! Something is
wrong with Linda…”
I felt myself split in two
as I remained on the phone. The healthcare provider in me took over, asking
questions before directing my husband’s aunt to call 911. But even as I
reassured her I would stay on the line as she waited for EMS, every part of my inner
being screamed in protest as I acknowledged the situation. From the call, I
suspected my mother-in-law had just had another stroke, only two weeks after
the first – a fact soon confirmed by the hospital. And despite my recent
efforts to focus only on what would serve Him and what was right before me, it
seemed the few plans we’d actually made - ones we were still struggling to
accept - were falling apart. I felt angry. Defeated. Hopeless.
And the
recent Peace in which I had begun to walk evaporated.
As the next few days
progressed, the situation that was awful enough before, somehow grew even
worse. We were again limited by the same COVID restrictions, but information
from the hospital came even less frequently, and our list of unanswered
questions grew. We gradually learned this stroke carried effects far more
devastating than the first, and my husband was now faced with gut-wrenching
choices we didn’t want to consider much less make.
The Storm Becomes the
Cross
The road on which we
traveled was not one we’d chosen. It was scary and painful. And each step only
highlighted our powerlessness. Regardless, this undesired situation was ours to
walk through. Each painful choice from which we wanted to run, was ours to
make. And in this vein, the entire situation became a cross we were obliged to
carry.
I recognize the cross is by its very nature, heavy, and this one was certainly no different. But in addition to the
expected weight of worry and sadness, the unpredictability of this period somehow made it heavier, and I felt crushed by its weight. From the little details of my day, to the big picture goals
for my life, I am a “planner.” And for my life and career goals, as well as the
daily juggling of our four busy household schedules, this has served me well.
But the constantly changing nature of this period prevented us from planning
beyond the next step, and the few plans we were able to make simply fell
apart.
And as they fell, I did as
well.
The Unpredictable Road
Ahead
Despite my longing, this journey did not come
with a road map or schedule. We did not know whether our next step would lead
to a speed bump or a mountain. We’d been asked to pick up the cross and carry
it - yet we knew not where we were going or the course we'd travel to get
there. We knew simply that each step we took somehow led us to rockier ground.
I cried out to God
regarding the uncertainty of the situation and the unbearable heaviness of the cross. And
as I did, I gradually came to understand the truth He wanted me to see: Over
the years, I had slowly built my foundation upon my ability to plan the future. This had become the source of my security. I’d allowed my calendar, my goals, and my plans to deceive me into thinking I
actually had control. But this difficult period highlighted clearly the
fragility of a foundation built on plans.
Sitting with Him in prayer, I heard His gentle whisper:
Jen, I know you wish a road map
was attached to this cross. But if you knew the destination, you would try to plan
the route. If you knew what lay on the path before you, you’d look only to
yourself and your resources to get through. And what I want most is for you to
come to Me, so I can carry you through.
I’m not asking you to stand on your
abilities, holding tightly to your plans, while you attempt to control
the cross in front of you.
Lay down your plans. Let Me
be the foundation on which you stand. And stay by my side, so we can shoulder the weight of the cross together.
Sitting with this longer
I now see that NOT having a road map actually IS His blessing.
Only one person has been strong enough to pick up His cross - while fully
armed with the knowledge of all that would happen while holding it - and
still carry it. And this person was Jesus. God Himself, made into flesh.
The
missing road map is for my protection, not my frustration. It is part of His perfect design. Not meant to make my journey heavier ... rather, it is meant to drive me to Him, as
I seek out His Strength, so He can become my foundation. For it is only when I stand on Him, as opposed to the shifting sands of self-made plans, that my heavy cross can be made light.
Another Storm on the Horizon
An unexpected finding on
my father’s CT scan.
A myriad of tests and
appointments and procedures.
Initial reassurance that
everything is likely fine …
And then, roughly 6 weeks
after the original scan, the word we didn’t want to hear. The diagnosis from
which we wanted to run: Cancer.
But I hear His whisper:
Jen, I want you to trust Me. Let Me hold the details of all the ups and downs that lie on the road ahead. Allow Me to protect you by keeping both the details - and the outcome - of this journey hidden until I’ve prepared you to carry them. Still your mind. Stop searching for the road map. Loosen your grip on your plans. And let Me be your security and your foundation, because I will never fail you.
So, here I am. Trying to be intentional as I embrace the unpredictability of the road ahead. Trying hard to view it through the lense of His beautiful protection. And trying each day to give thanks for His willingness to carry every detail He knows I’m not yet ready to hold.
And praying, as always, that God breathes life into these words.
January 23, 1946 - May 27, 2020.
May your soul rest in eternal Peace.
as he begins treatment at MD Anderson Cancer Center on June 14th.
___________________________
(blessed by these words? feel free to share, so you can bless others.)
.png)
.png)
.png)
Comments
Post a Comment